Sienna was completely comatose, with black magical wires (like the ones that kept Cinder alive) attached to her as she lied on the bed. Cinder stood guard over the comatose prisoner. She sat on a chair, watching as Sienna Khan remained motionless.
Man, this sucks. Cinder complained mentally. With me being asked to do guard duty, my secret research on the Silver-Eyed Warriors has come to a near halt. She stared at Sienna's chain whip around her right arm. I wonder if Salem would allow me to take her weapon so that it could be broken down into something I could use. She paused to herself for a moment. Probably not. She groaned internally. I can't believe it. I joined Salem to escape the fate I was cursed with, and now, I'm practically back where I started! She internally sighed. I guess that's not entirely true. But this still sucks.
She looked at the timer on her scroll counting downwards; 7:55:59. 58... 57... 56...
The mute fall maiden internally sighed again. This is going to be a long shift.
Several days later, the time had come for the Mistralian White Fang leader to face justice. Maura stood nearby her table in the courtroom, with guards watching her every move. She looked around and saw numerous attendees at the trial, from civilians to combatants. Between the loud chatter, she couldn't hear any conversations between the well-dressed men and women in the room.
To her left, a woman with dirty blonde hair and gray eyes stood next to a man with dark brown-blackish hair and green eyes.
"Where's VV?" the woman asked.
"He couldn't make it- he has a big gig tonight!" answered.
"Is that so? I would have thought he'd be here." She shrugged. "Guess not."
An Asian-looking man came up to them. He was a man in his 30's with jade green eyes, pale skin and short white hair with a pink streak. He wore a traditional green Mao suit. On the back of the shirt were twin eastern dragons coiled in the shape of a figure eight along with black dress shoes.
Another man close to Lotus's age with had tanned skin, ashen black hair and orange eyes stood along with him. He was wearing a standard business suit and orange cufflinks.
"Ah, Ms. Hunt and Mr. Page, so good to see you here."
"Lotus, I told you that can call us by our first names."
Lotus Yu corrected himself. "Okay then. Terra and Orion, nice to see you."
"Better." Terra smiled. "Nice to see you too, Inigo."
Mr. Nash smiled. "Thanks. I'm just glad to see that madwoman has finally been caught."
To her right, team CUBB and the prosecuting attorney stood nearby their table, with Maza looking saddened and ashamed. Carmina and Blanka were calm. Ayress gave Maura the 'I'm watching you' look and Maura tensed up in fear. The prosecuting attorney also glared at Maura and she sadly turned away.
Outside the gallery, sitting from the rooftops with a pen and clipboard in his lap and a pair of binoculars in his hands, Watts took note of the huntsmen and huntresses present.
I will admit, this was a brilliant idea. From here I can see nearly every huntsmen and huntress in the city that enters the gallery. Many of them are attending the trial along with the public commoners. Let's see... I'll leave team CUBB for another day, and pick off these heroes one by one. Now where to begin.
Back inside the courthouse, a gravel was banged against the judge's stand. Maura and her defense attorney sat at one table and team CUBB and the prosecutor at the other. The judge was a woman with bluebell eyes, pale skin and dark blue hair in a bun. She wore a black robe as was customary and she also wore white gloves.
"Court will now come to order." One of the officers spoke. "Honorable Judge Isabelle Bluebell presiding."
"Case of Mistral vs Maura." Bluebell began. "The defendant is charged with terrorist crimes including setting up the Storming of Sanctum as well as actively freeing prisoners from and destroying Argus Harbor Max Security prison. How do you plead?"
"I'm not guilty of any charges, I swear!" Maura pleaded.
The judge sighed. "I shouldn't be surprised. Is the prosecution ready to proceed?"
"Yes, your honor." the prosecuting attorney stated.
As the trial in Mistral continued on for numerous hours, Whitley was seen frantically pacing in his room. He paced from the blue door to the glass door at a moderate pace three times. After the third time, he groaned and fished out his scroll.
18:29
February 4th
The deadline to submit artworks for the charity auction was in less than an hour, and he still hadn't heard from Iris. This was bad.
Come on... Where is she?! If she doesn't pull through, this plan is ruined! He breathed to try and calm himself. Maybe she's on her way right now. But what if she doesn't show up?
He looked again to see if there were any new messages. There were none. He put his scroll away and sighed aloud, thinking to himself, This plan is about to go up in smoke. It's less than an hour before the deadline. 18:30. Thirty minutes til the deadline. Why hasn't she submitted her painting yet? What if she never finished it? What if something happened to her? Iris, where are you? Why aren't you here?
A knock on his door was heard. When he didn't answer, the servant opened his door. He respectfully bowed to him. "Master Whitley. You have a visitor."
The scene transitioned to the grand staircase. At the bottom of it, Iris was wearing a purple hooded winter coat over her attire, standing and shivering nearby an easel. The easel had a canvas hidden under a black drape. She looked up as she heard footsteps and saw Whitley happily dashing down the steps.
"Iris, you're here and-!" Whitley suddenly stopped rejoicing when he realized that she was shivering and that her fingertips were red instead of pale. "Oh goodness, you're freezing."
"It's just frostnip." At this moment, he noticed that her eyes were purple. Or were they always that way? "I'll be fine."
"Nonsense. You are my guest here, and I do not want you to feel cold while you were doing something for me." He saw a female servant standing around. "Why are you standing there?! Get her a warm towel on the double!" The maid ran off to get a warm towel as Whitley placed his hands over Iris's. "Oh my, they are freezing! How did your hands get so cold?"
"Unfortunately, I don't have any gloves to keep my hands warm. Usually I would keep my hands in my pockets, but I had to carry the painting and protect it from the elements."
"I see. Also, I attempted to call you about the painting quite a few times. How come you didn't answer?"
"My scroll broke a few days ago and I haven't been able to get a replacement yet. I would have written, but I had no time. I barely managed to finish the painting. For the last hour or so, I've been scrambling around looking for an electric fan to get the paint to dry quicker. After asking my five of my neighbors, I was finally able to get one."
The maid gave a warm towel to Whitley. "Here you go!"
He quickly give it to Iris as the maid sped off. "So you finished it?"
"I did. It took forever to get dry, but I did it." As she continued to warm up her hands with the warm towel, she looked at him fearfully. "I'm not too late, am I?"
"No, it is..." He checked his scroll. "18:35. You have arrived with a small bit of time to spare."
She sighed in relief and her eyes turned grey. "Whew. That's a relief."
You have no idea, Whitley thought to himself.
"Well, once your hands are warmed up, would you like to show me your painting?"
She smiled, her eyes turning yellow. "I'd love to." She looked at her hands and saw that her finger tips were back to their original pale color. "Hold this please." She gave the towel to him and stood to the side of the easel from Whitley's right. "This is the result of twenty eight days and countless hours of hard work. I put a lot of tender-loving care into this painting. May I present to you- my masterpiece. The largest and most gorgeous painting I've ever created."
The artist pulled the drape off and the camera showed Whitley looking at the painting in awe, keeping the painting itself from being in view. "It's beautiful. It's perfect! I couldn't have envisioned it better."
Iris put the drape over it. "Now then, where should I take this?"
"Let's bring it to my father's study. He should be able to take it from there."
The scene transitioned to Jacques in his study, examining reports before a knock on his door was heard. "Come in."
Whitley opened the door as Iris carried her draped easel with the painting on. "Good evening, father." He gestured to Iris. "This young lady would like to enter her painting into the art auction."
"First we have to see if it's worthy of being auctioned."
Whitley smiled. "I would say so, but you should see it for yourself."
Iris pulled the drape off the painting and the camera viewed Jacques's expression, shifting from neutral to a bit of surprise. "I will admit, it is very well done. Just submit your papers and we'll enter it right in."
The artist looked at him confused. "Paperwork?"
"We log all of our artwork in order to keep track of how many pieces are submitted. It seems you didn't know." Iris nodded sadly, her eyes turning blue. "Fortunately, I happen to have a form right there." As she approached his desk, he handed her an artwork submission form and a pen.
"That can be arranged." With grey eyes, she turned to Whitley. "While I do that, you think you can fetch the reminder of my payment?"
"Oh right. Let me search my room and I'll get that right to you."
Whitley left the room and Iris began to fill out the paperwork. A few moments later, Whitley returned from his Lien in his hand and handed it to Iris. "Well it cost me nearly every Lien I had my room, not counting my personal savings in the bank, but here you go."
"Thank you, good sir." She took the money and turned back to the submission form. "Almost done with the paperwork. Unfortunately, I'm having trouble coming up with a title for my painting. You think you could help me?"
"Certainly."
Back at the courthouse, the trial was running well into the night. The prosecutors had finished their argument, and now it was the defense's turn to try and counter the evidence stacked against her.
"Do you have any witnesses to call?" Judge Bluebell asked.
For a moment, there was silence. Maura whispered to her defense attorney, who then answered, "Yes, Your Honor. Defense calls Maza Bashir to the stand."
Many gasps were heard throughout the event.
What? Me? What am I supposed to say? Maza rapidly thought to herself.
"Maza Bashir of team CUBB? Did I say that correctly?" Bluebell inquired.
"You did, Your Honor."
"You are a member of the team who caught her, even though she has called you. This is an unusual occurrence, but you are allowed to defend her or decline to speak. Will you testify in her name?"
Maza looked to her teammates, all doing various gestures telling her not to speak for Maura.
"I will, Your Honor."
Even more gasps were heard as she made her way up to the podium, none being louder than Ayress.
I hope I can do this...
Iris had come up with an idea for her painting's title. She wrote it down and was able to finish her submission. "And done."
"A thousand Lien just for painting it? I'm surprised you're not charging more." Jacques said.
"That's the commission fee." Iris answered. "If you look on my form, I'd like the starting auction price to be 14,400 Lien."
"We'll round it up to 15,000 Lien. Just to make it an easier auctioning price."
"Oh you're too kind." Her eyes turned blue. "Normally, I wouldn't charge commissioning fees. But desperate times call for desperate measures."
Whitley raised an eyebrow. "Desperate measures? What do you mean by that?"
"Well... You have probably already guessed this- I'm poor." Whitley nodded. "But I'm not just poor. Aside from the thousand Lien that I got by making this painting, I'm broke." She turned to Whitley. "You have found me in my darkest hour. Whether dawn will come is uncertain..."
He looked at her, concerned. "Darkest hour? How did it come to be this way?"
She sighed. "It's a long story. Where do I even begin? Oh. I suppose I have to start at the beginning. The very beginning."
The scene showed a still scene of a young Iris, about six years old. Her hair was down to her shoulders and she wore a white skirt with green polka dots and a bright blue shirt with a rainbow and clouds on it. She was sitting on a stool with a pink tipped paintbrush, smiling with yellow eyes as she sat in front of a painting on an easel.
I had loved painting ever since I was a little girl. For me, being able to create something beautiful out of nothing was the best thing in the world. It wasn't merely a hobby or something I liked to do. Art was life, and it was the only life I really wanted. But little did I know at the time that it would not come easily.
The scene turned to present as she asked them, "Are you familiar with the name Emily Khloris?"
"Can't say that I am." Whitley responded.
"It sounds a little familiar..." Jacques answered.
"She is a skilled huntress, one of the few first class messengers in Atlas... and my mother. My father Albin on the other hand, is a stay at home dad. He's not a complete doormat per se, but, Emily's really the one who wears the pants... If you know what I mean."
Jacques nodded. "I see. Go on."
"The thing with my mother is... she hated art. She never wanted me to be an artist."
The scene switched to a still scene of Emily scolding her daughter, who had pink paint on her arms and yellow paint in her hair.
My mother said that in today's post Great-War era, that creativity was at an all-time high, and that there was no need for me, the daughter of a huntress, to engage in such 'meaningless activity', as she called it. She wanted to forbid it entirely, but father convinced her to let me continue doing it. Alas, it was not enough to stop her from forcing me down the same path she walked.
"She wanted someone to carry on the family legacy, I presume?" Whitley asked.
"Well, if she wanted to do that, she could have just relied on my older brothers, William and Alexander. She forced all of us down that same path. But while my brothers actually liked it, I hated every minute of it. I didn't fully realize that she wanted me to become a huntress at first. I guess maybe because I thought I could easily get out of it."
When I was ten years old, combat training began. Private lessons with mom on the basics of combat and aura.
The scene showed Iris, now ten years old, standing outside in the backyard of her family's home. Her hair was pulled back into a small ponytail with the rest of it hanging loose and was wearing a purple knee-length dress with dark blue and bright green horizontal stripes on the skirt. Emily gave a series of punches towards Iris and she dodged all of them, well, save for the last one.
Eventually, she enrolled me in primary combat school at Shield Academy. It wasn't fun being forced to go here and learn things that I believed would never help me. It wasn't all bad though. I made a few friends there. Unfortunately, I lost contact with all of them over the course of my first year at Atlas. But still, it was nice to have friends. Growing up with only my family members, most of which teased and or ridiculed me on a regular basis, made me feel very lonely when growing up. Not many people ever wanted to be near me. Whether it was because of my weird color-changing eyes, they didn't know me, or they just didn't care, I really don't know.
Several groups of students were seen hanging out in an open-air cafeteria, among them were Iris and three other girls. They were shown at a table laughing and giggling.
Yeah, those were some of the good days. I never realized it though until much later. But even forced on the path to learn combat, I still rebelled and showed off my creative spirit. At the age of twelve, as required by all students at Shield, I forged my own weapon. For my weapon, I forged a clear glass dagger capable of holding six types of dust at once. The dagger itself contained red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple dust to symbolize the rainbow. At first, I had difficultly naming my weapon. Nothing really fit well. Rainbow seemed too obvious, and Paintbrush just didn't work. Eventually, I came up with something.
Iris was shown holding her dagger in her hands. One of her friends asked her, "So what will you name it?"
Her eyes turned yellow. "Prism. For a prism can reflect the colors of the rainbow when light shines upon it."
I was very happy with the weapon I chose. Needless to say, mother was not happy having to pay for all those kinds of dust... several times. But she bore with it the same way I bore through the trials of primary combat school. I had hoped that after going through primary combat school I could convince my mother to not enroll me in Atlas Academy, telling her I wasn't cut out for the life of a huntress. She refused to listen. At this point, I realized there was no getting out of it, no matter what I said or did. I was enrolled in Atlas Academy a few days before my 17th birthday. It was also my brother Alexander's fourth and final year at the academy. Despite that, we hardly interacted with each other during my time at Atlas.
The scene returned to the present.
"I passed the entrance exam without a hitch. Although my group got one of the harder initiation tests, we all managed to pass, and thus, team CIMN (Cinnamon) was born."
The painter handed them a paper picture. From left to right stood four different women in front of Atlas Academy's courtyard standing before a stairway. On the far left was a woman with tanned skin. Her light brown hair was in a bob cut. Her chocolate brown eyes complimented the genuine smile on her face. She wore a light brown/orangeish sweetheart halter top with orange capri pants and a brown threaded bracelet with a golden frying pan charm on her right wrist. She wore brown boots to complete the look.
Iris stood next to her, wearing a rainbow colored long sleeved shirt along with dark blue capri pants with purple flowers on them. She wore the same orange and black tennis shoes she wore today (although they weren't worn out) and her hair was loose and neatly brushed as she smiled. Although she was smiling, her eyes were purple, indicating her fear for the events to come.
The third was a woman with pale skin, green eyes and black hair with a blond streak on her left. She wore a baggy black t-shirt with long sleeves. Each sleeve had a dark green scale patterned fabric snake, starting from her shoulders and coiling around her arms until their heads stopped at her wrists. She wore black jeans with lime green snakes traveling upwards starting at the ankles and coiling around her legs, stopping at her thighs. She wore forest green slip-ons and a green plastic snake anklet.
And on the far right was a woman with snow pale skin and blue eyes. Her black hair was knotted into a bun and held by a dark blue scrunchie. She wore a blue hoodless zip up jacket with a black vest on top and white undershirt. She also wore a black knee length skirt paired with dark grey leggings. She wore black derby shoes and black socks to tie it together.
"These are your teammates?" Whitley asked.
"They were my teammates during my time at Atlas." Iris pointed to each person in the photo. "Cinnamon Spice, myself, Mindy Celandine and Nila Summers."
"Mindy Celandine? She wouldn't happen to have any relation to the infamous Maura Celandine who is currently being tracked down in Mistral, does she?" Jacques inquired.
"For better or worse, she does. Maura is her aunt and Maura has an older sister named Demeter. According to what Mindy told me, twenty years ago, when the Faunus Rights Revolution came to an end, Demeter and Maura got into an argument. They heard about a group forming called the White Fang. Maura readily joined them, and tried to convince her sister to join her. Demeter, fearing that they would be a violent group, wanted nothing to do with them. She believed continuing to fight the status quo was pointless when it was easier to hide the truth. So she moved to Atlas. Soon thereafter, she met a nice young man, married him and eventually birthed two daughters; Chloe and Mindy. Chloe was born a snake scaled faunus, like her mother and aunt. She tried to keep it secret, but unfortunately, during her third year, her snake fangs were caught on video and posted to the internet. Now everyone knows who she really is. Mindy, however, is actually a half-blood. But that didn't matter to me. She was kind to me, honest, trustworthy, supporting and above all, loyal. She was my best friend, and after a while, she was my only friend."
"I see. And what of your other teammates?" Whitley questioned.
Iris made a so-so motion with her right hand. "Eh, Cinnamon Spice was nice, but she was never really a true friend. But she was better than Nila Summers. She was just horrible. She teased and ridiculed me on a regular basis!"
"So what happened to them?"
"I'm getting to that. It's a long story, and, if I be brutally honest, I didn't always do very good in school."
As she recalled what happened, her mind trailed back to her days in Atlas Academy. The scene showed her writing down answers on a test in a classroom. Then it switched to her getting an F on said test. She groaned.
I was highly stressed out from my course work. I didn't do very well in some of my classes, which in turn made my stress worse. Not to mention Nila bullying me most, if not, everyday.
Iris was seen painting in the courtyard of Atlas Academy. In the background was Claire Blanche, wearing a long white modern slip dress, knee length cerulean blue boots with small heels and white elbow length gloves. Part of her hair was white, but only a few streaks, and she wore it in a ponytail. She donned a silver and blue gem bracelet and a fake plastic silver tiara with blue gems. Her teammates stood by discussing and adding to the multiple conversations in the courtyard.
Also nearby were Ivori and Kobalt. The former was wearing a white suit, showing off no skin on his arms or chest. The latter had shoulder length hair, navy blue jeans and a light blue shirt without any armor.
More often than not, I would paint during my spare time. It served as a form of stress relief, pleasure, and a way for me forget about my troubles. Even if it was only temporary.
Nila came up to her. "Really? You're still painting?"
Iris scoffed and tried to focus on her painting, her eyes turning green. "Don't you have a test in stupidity to prepare for?"
"I'd never take a test like that. Not when you've already passed!"
"Oh please. You'd make so many mistakes, you'd pass for sure!"
"Mistakes? Ha! If you really want to know about mistakes, you should ask your parents."
The painter's eyes turned red. "Alright, that's it!"
Iris threw her paintbrush to the ground and confronted her teammate, slapping her in the face.
That resulted in the first ever fist-fight between us.
The painter and the critic were shown fighting in the courtyard, with many students watching. Among the crowd was team FNKI, team CRME, and many others that gathered over time. There was much cheering and screaming. People were even placing bets on who would win.
"You're the worst!" Nila screamed getting up from the ground.
"Stop criticizing my artwork!" Iris demanded. Nila yanked her hair painfully. "OW! And stop pulling my hair!"
"Go painter girl!" a girl cheered from the back.
"Don't let her bring you down!" Claire cheered.
Iris kicked Nila in the chest, causing her let go of her hair before the painter did a series of blows to her face.
The fight continued for who knows how long. Whether it be ten minutes, thirty, an hour or more I don't know.
The two were shown in gridlock, with Iris's right hand against Mindy's head and the other on her left shoulder, attempting to force her to the ground. Meanwhile, Nila was pulling Iris's hair with both of her hands.
Unfortunately, before I could best her, the fight was broken up by our team leader.
"Iris Khloris! Nila Summers!" The fighters, and the crowd observing them, turned to see Cinnamon, standing there angrily with her arms folded. Mindy stood there, worried for her best friend. Iris's eyes turned to purple as she looked at her team leader. The leader demanded, "What is the meaning of this?!"
Iris's eyes turned back to red as both girls answered at once, "She started it!"
"Actually, the blond one started it." Ebony answered.
"Ebony!" Claire scolded.
The smartypants shrugged. "What, I'm just telling it like it is."
"He's not wrong, though." Kobalt stated.
"Do I have to separate you two?" Without a word, Nila let go of Iris's hair and the latter stepped back a few feet. Cinnamon glared at her teammates. "I am ashamed of you. Both of you. This is no way for future huntresses to believe!" Iris's eyes turned blue in shame. Cinnamon looked at the crowd angrily. "And you!" Many tensed up in fear as she looked at them. "Why didn't any of you step in and break up the fight?!"
"It's not our job to interfere in another teams business." Ivori answered.
"Besides, neither one was seriously hurt. So why interfere with the show?" Neon remarked.
"Eh, you do have a point there." Cinnamon admitted to Ivori before turning to Neon. "You, you're just wrong." Neon frowned as Cinnamon turned back to the crowd. "To those of you who are not part of team CIMN, I suggest you vacate the area at once."
The crowd of students walked away.
After the students dispersed, she gave us the harshest scolding that I had ever been given in my life. I don't remember everything word for word, but I do remember how angry she was with us. From that point, the teasing and ridicule from Nila became less frequent, but I still got mad pretty easily. Eventually, I asked Professor Periwinkle, one of my teachers, to give me access to her old classroom and turned it into a private art studio.
A woman with short periwinkle hair and icy blue eyes was shown standing before Iris in an empty classroom. The woman wore a long layered dress of lavender and snow blue with dark blue snow boots. She handed a set of keys to Iris.
Iris faintly smiled, her eyes turning yellow. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Periwinkle responded. "I hope that by getting away from your rude teammate that you'll be able to put more effort into your schoolwork, especially this class."
Iris gave Periwinkle a salute. "Don't worry, Professor! I won't let you down!"
The scene switched to Iris in Periwinkle's old office, painting a picture of a lush forest and creek, her eyes yellow as she gave a genuine smile. Her green tipped paintbrush touched the canvas as she continued to create her artwork.
Since me and Mindy were the only ones on team CIMN who knew where Periwinkle's old classroom was, Nila was unable to bother me.
A silent montage began as Iris was shown locking the door, doing homework in the commons area, and an irritated Nila standing in their dorm with Iris smirking. Then it showed Iris seeing high grades and marks in her classes and cheering.
I was able to paint there, do my homework in the courtyard or sometimes a deserted classroom, and avoid Nila like the plague. Slowly, my grades improved. Things were getting better. Nila was still a big pain in the ass when we had to spend time together, but I was able to take pleasure in roasting her. I was able to survive the first semester, not only passing all my classes, but doing pretty good in all of them too. At the end of the semester, me and Mindy decided to go out for ice cream to celebrate.
The two were shown an ice cream parlor in Atlas, sitting at a table across from each other. Iris had a cup of chocolate cherry ice cream while Mindy had mint chocolate chip in a waffle bowl. There were also a few mini cups of water that hadn't been touched yet.
"So your mother forced you to be a huntress?" Mindy asked her, before licking her ice cream again.
"I know right?" She put her spoon back into her ice cream and her eyes were shown to be blue. "It really sucks." She smiled, her eyes turning yellow. "But with you here, it feels like I can take on the whole world."
"Glad to hear it." Mindy slid one of the cups of water over to her before taking one and rising it into the air. "I propose a toast, to a long-lasting friendship."
"To friendship."
They clinked their cups and drank the water.
Mindy was my best friend. She meant the world to me. I believed that with her here, everything would be alright.